@theonxepialos location: the woods notes: for the desperate assassin connect
Stagnant air settled peacefully over the bog, the air was heady and thick carrying with it the acrid taste of virulent spores. Half-sunken trees broke the surface of the stagnant water in places; their roots, entrenched in the dark waters below wove through the placid features like the veins of ancient felled beasts. On the oldest of one, Diarmad perched contemplative, sharpening stone arrowheads against the smooth, flat surface of an old stone he'd fished from down below.
Between the buzz of the bog flies and the distant screech of a heron, the subtle scrape of stone across stone echoed through the sparse trees. His home was not far from here, but as far as the bog extended, Diarmad's garden and domain reached. Bones upon bones, rotted bodies, and mottled skin were long trapped in the mud below the water. Over their carcass came the weight of his cultivation, embedded in the trees and lingering in the air.
Reclusive as the genasi might be, he did enjoy visitors.
"Welcome back," Diarmad greeted, not fully looking in Theon's direction but feeling his presence through the spores just the same. He was not easily caught unaware here. "did you get what I asked for?"